


Burning in my Veins

by myideaofbeautiful



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Hurt Merlin, M/M, magical bindings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 16:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4632981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myideaofbeautiful/pseuds/myideaofbeautiful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It burned.<br/>It burned like a wild fire spreading through dry grasslands. Like the melted iron in the blacksmith hearth. Running through his veins ragging underneath his skin, searching, clawing, begging to get out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning in my Veins

**Author's Note:**

> I make no profit from this, the characters belong to Shine and the BBC.  
> I want to thank my sister for the quick beta.  
> Enjoy!

It burned.

It burned like a wild fire spreading through dry grasslands. Like the melted iron in the blacksmith hearth. Running through his veins ragging underneath his skin, searching, clawing, begging to get out.

He vowed that he would not beg as he looked into Uther Pendragon’s eyes, unflinching at the cold, blunt hate clearly visible in its depts. And he didn’t.

The animal sounds that escaped his mouth was harsh and primal. His body spasming from the pain, curling and uncurling. He clawed at his wrists until blood stained his hands and ran down his arms.

The prison floor was cold beneath his body, should have been. But Merlin was burning from the inside out, his magic begging for release.

His vision was blurred and dark spots danced in front of his eyes. His voice, now raw from screaming, allowed no sound to escape other than the wheezing breaths scorching his throat. The plead for unconsciousness echoed in his mind but remained unanswered as the pain never allowed even that small kindness.

Merlin is unsure of how much time has passed-it feels like eons. He thinks he might have heard Gaius’s voice, and Morgana’s and Gwen’s-none of them the voice he craved.

There is the sound of a prison door creaking open and the sudden touch of a hand on his shoulder, at the touch the burn intensifies and a hoarse cry escapes through his cracked lips as he tries to curl further into a fetal position. Someone repeats his name, and it sounds familiar tugging at the edges of Merlin’s sluggish mind. There’s the sound of keys clanging before the person grabs Merlin’s wrists. Merlin tries to struggle but his energy is drained and every move is like extra fuel to the fire underneath his skin. And suddenly the shackles of his left wrist shoots open. Metal clangs to the floor. It’s only a few moments before the second follows. The moment the cold iron is removed his eyes fill with liquid gold, and sparks runs through him into the stone beneath his hands.

He blacks out for a moment and when he comes to his head is rested against someone’s chest, he feels the bite of a collarbone pressing against his cheek. He doesn’t need to look up to know its Arthur carrying him. The familiar smell of sweat and sunshine would have been enough. But Merlin wants, no needs to see him so he tilts his head upwards, twitching his finger against the red cotton shirt. Arthur looks down at him and his eyes are dark. The frown between his brows is deep and Merlin wants to reach up and stroke it out. But his limbs are heavy and his eyes drooping. He whispers Arthur’s name and Arthur tears up. “I’m sorry Merlin. I’m so sorry.”

“Arthur.” Merlin says and he repeats it until the darkness pulls him under.

***

When he wakes he’s laying just inside the mouth of a cave. His voice feels raw and his wrists are throbbing insistently. When he lift his arm his muscles feels sore and limp like they usually feel after one of Arthur’s training sessions, also there is a white bandage wrapped around it. The itch is almost unbearable and Merlin can feel the tendrils of his magic busy weaving the wounds close.

When he tries to get up he groans from the strain and Arthur is next to him in an instant pushing him back down.

“You need to rest.”

Merlin wants to protest but there is a heaviness in his bones so he gives in and lays back down again.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” Merlin replies before coughing.

Arthur reaches for his pack before lifting Merlin’s head and helping him take a sip from the water skin. The cool substance runs down his throat and Merlin thinks that’s how the earth must feel when it finally rains after a long drought. Arthur then lower his head back onto the jacket currently being used as a pillow. Merlin open and closed his mouth but Arthur stopped him.

“Sleep now.” He whispered stroking the side of Merlin’s face.

***

When Merlin wakes up again there a warm fire blazing a few feet away, lighting the small space they are occupying. Arthur sits on the other side of the fire, eyes trained on its dancing flames.

“Arthur.” Arthurs head shoots up and it looks like he wants to jump up and come to Merlin, sit down next to him and pull Merlin against him. But there is and uncertainty in his eyes, an uncrossed border, just like the fire separating them now. He throws the blanket off, and notice the bandages are gone. The scars are ugly. Imprinted rings running around his wrists, their presence permanently carved into him. He drags his finger over the curves. He smiles dryly as he recognise the druidic symbols. Uther had always been a hypocrite.

“I’m sorry.” Merlin looks up and finds Arthur’s gaze resting on his wrists. Merlin lowers his hands.

“It’s not your fault, Arthur.”

“I should have fought harder. I should have protected you better.”

“It’s not you job to protect me.”

“Isn’t it.” Arthur asked eyes blazing. “Since I’ve known you, you have protected me. Should I not do the same?”

“You can’t do everything, Arthur.” Merlin argued.

“No, I can’t but this is one of the most important ones.“

“Arthur.” Merlin moved around the fire before stopping in front of Arthur cupping his cheeks. His thumb continuously stoked over the stubble covered skin. Arthur’s eyes are damp as he lifts his hands and rests them on Merlin’s own, before sliding them down and allowing them to trace the new marks. He slowly extracted Merlin’s hand from his face before bringing it to his lips and silently kissing the marks, sliding his lips over the uneven skin before repeating the action with the other. His cheeks were damp as he made eye contact with Merlin, before pulling him closer and crushing their lips together. Merlin sobbed into the kiss clutching his fingers in Arthur’s hair. Arthur pulled him closer as if trying to pull Merlin into himself. Ravaging Merlin’s mouth until the need for air forced them apart. His breath hot on Merlin’s face. Merlin ducked down and buried his head in Arthur’s neck. Tacking deep breaths and panting against the skin. Arthur hugs him gently and presses a kiss to his head, whispers soft words into his hair. Arthur knew that many challenges lay ahead but with Merlin by his side he would be able to face anything.

***


End file.
